


Sometimes You Just Have To Allow Yourself To Feel

by probablyjuno



Series: Juno Steel and the Pursuit of Happiness [3]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: F/F, Other, Peter feels things, Rita is mvp as always, and saves the day kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 19:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18947542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablyjuno/pseuds/probablyjuno
Summary: Peter feels. Jet gets angry. Rita plays the mom friend.





	Sometimes You Just Have To Allow Yourself To Feel

**Author's Note:**

> “Don't you know I'm no good for you?  
> I've learned to lose you, can't afford to  
> Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin'  
> But nothin' ever stops you leavin'
> 
> Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own  
> I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that  
> I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that
> 
> Don't you know too much already?  
> I'll only hurt you if you let me  
> Call me friend but keep me closer (call me back)  
> And I'll call you when the party's over
> 
> Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own  
> And I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that  
> Yeah, I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that”
> 
> \- “when the party’s over”, by Billie Eilish
> 
> (I made a Jupeter [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/beauty_hunter/playlist/2HHzo9dM4PGjbiUui0zgYj?si=aD5ifCooT9-jZvpaaKRYpQ%20%E2%80%A6) if you're interested <3)

“I’m fine.”

Rose dismissed Jet with a wave of his hand, but the man was not about to let himself be ordered around. Juno might have been under the thief’s charms, but Jet would not hesitate to throw a punch. He didn’t exactly care about Duke Rose, and had not been given any reason to dig deeper and uncover the real man behind the facade.

“I did not ask you how you were feeling. I told you to visit him. He might be an idiot for it, but Juno cares about you. Treat him at least with some decency”.

 

It had been a few days now since Juno Steel, former private eye and not-yet-accomplished thief, had been at the hospital. Peter had driven him to the nearest one in Hyperion City and had entrusted nurses with his unconscious body. The thief could have gone with him inside, but he had known then that, had he walked in, he never would have left. So Peter had faded, and the mask was back on.

 

Jet’s large frame was filling the door, while Duke sat on the couch, a book between his hands. 

“You do know we’re not actually married, right? You are talking quite a lot for someone who doesn’t know half the story.” Rose attempted a smile. Like everything else about him, it was fake and slightly off, but it never bothered the man. He wasn’t the kind to care much about other people’s opinions of him. That was Peter’s role, and this wasn’t his time.

In a few large steps, Jet was upon him. The broad man was towering over him, casting an ominous shadow, like the harbinger of some terrible tragedy. In a quick motion, quicker than such an imposing figure should be capable of, Jet reached for Rose’s book. His eyes were still riveted to the page, and before he could attempt to hold on, the book flew across the room. Jet’s features were harsh - he had thrown the novel and was now staring through Duke’s soul.

“Listen. Cut the act. Juno is definitely a moron for liking you, but he still does. So you will go visit him, or I will drag you myself.”

Something deep in Rose’s stomach shifted. Remnants of Peter, perhaps. Because, if there had been one thing he thought could never change, it had to be Jet’s expression. Seeing him care so much was uncanny. But Duke remained composed.

“I do not care about who you are, or what you have done. But Juno is a good person, so you will treat him well, or you will leave him.”

 

It had been a few days - Rose had spent them keeping busy aboard the ship. There were things he had to do, and sleep seemed useless. And he certainly had no reason nor time to visit the detective. Peter might have cared, but Rose didn’t.

The slender figure pushed to his feet calmly, and walked past. He had no time to waste on petty fighting.

 

“I saw it in your eyes. The real you. When you thought Juno was dying, you stopped pretending and you acted. So do that more often. Stop talking, stop smiling, stop being someone who doesn’t care, who can’t care, and do.” Jet’s voice reached Duke’s ears as he was walking away. He froze for a moment, but still left. No, he had no time.

\---

Rita was at the hospital with Juno everyday. Jet, Buddy and Vespa had visited him too. Why would Duke have to as well?

Everything was easy when Peter was gone. It was so simple to be. But Peter? Peter was too complicated, too real, too human.  
And proof was consequential: when Nureyev allowed himself to feel, things always ended badly. He always hurt people. His anger had killed Mag. His love was going to kill Juno.   
But he could prevent it. Juno was careless and passionate. He would die for Peter. So Peter would have to die first, disappear, once and for all.

 

His eyes were focused on blueprints laid out before him - the plans of a building where weapons were stored by ruthless criminals. Duke had been working on figuring out how to destroy them for several days and nights now.  
His lids were growing heavy, and staying awake was becoming harder and harder each day. But he had no time. There were too many things to do.

Rose decided to take a shower. It could clear his mind and wake him up. He needed his thoughts to be straight and focused. He couldn’t afford to be distracted.

 

The bathroom was free, so Duke brought a change of clothes with him and showered. The freezing water felt good against his skin, and the harshness of it distracted him from his head.  
Quickly, he threw the outfit on - simple and comfortable - and headed back to his room.

Things would have been so much easier if he hadn’t walked passed Juno’s room.

 

Rose’s eye caught a splash of color in the detective’s unlit bedroom. The reds and pinks and yellows of the Dahlias on his nightstand inevitably drew his eyes. Air escaped his lungs.

Juno had kept them.

 

Rose felt himself walk in, and before he could prevent himself, Peter had taken over.   
His fingers brushed the petals. The softness contrasted with the still prickling sensation at the end of his fingers from the cold water.   
But Peter was weak, his colors had faded. Rose’s were so much more vibrant and clean. But a part of Nureyev didn’t want to put the mask back on anymore. Maybe Peter didn’t want to die.

He had never thought that Peter Nureyev, the kid that had disappeared mysteriously on Brahma, would ever be again. He never thought that he would have wanted Peter Nureyev to be again. But Juno Steel - private eye, dark facade, light in his heart- he had been enough to bring Peter Nureyev back from the brink.  
Duke Rose, and every other name he had claimed, once, in another life, would have torn Peter away from the surface. They would have buried him deep. Because he was weak, because he was angry, because he cared, too damn much. And in another lifetime, Peter Nureyev would have thought it for the best - he didn’t want to feel. But if Juno Steel had been able to survive all this time, tortured by life and himself, then why not Peter Nureyev? Didn’t he owe Juno to try? He who, despite his doubts and fears, tried to trust Peter Nureyev? To love him? Juno Steel had been desperate to find him again, but his thousands of names hid the thief away. Maybe it was time to rip the masks and burn them. 

 

He had to find something to hold on to. Something that would make the anger and the pain and the grief okay.  
His eyes surveyed the room. His thoughts were rushing in his head, thick in his veins, painful and sharp like razors. His vision was blurry.  
Please, don’t let me be gone. Don’t let Peter Nureyev die.

 

His eyes stopped on something, on Juno’s desk.  
A mostly empty glass of whiskey stood on the table. Around were scattered pieces of paper. Peter caught a crumpled note and read it out loud, as if to reach his own ears and convince himself of the words’ reality.

“Nureyev,  
I’m sorry I’m such a dick, I wish I had-”

It stopped there. Peter laughed. Juno made Peter laugh. He made him happy.

He threw the note and grabbed another.

“This is the ninth note I’m writing. Words are stupid and there’s just no way I can express how fucking terrible I feel for leaving you the way I did. I wish I hadn’t. I really do. And you probably won’t believe it but-”

The rest had been furiously scratched, so much so that half of the paper was torn through. Peter read another.

“Peter,  
The time I’ve had without you has been hell. But shit, I swear I’m not the same person. And you don’t have to believe me. I intend on proving it to you . I’ve grown. I’ve learned. I’m still fucked up, but Juno Steel is a bit less of an idiot now. I want to show it to you. I want to get better, for you. You deserve so much better. I’m sorry I left. I had to, but I wish I would have at least told you. You don’t have to forgive me, you don’t have to take me back, but just believe that you didn’t deserve to be treated the way I did and-”

The rest of the note was blurred, water had dropped on the ink. 

 

The mask had fallen. 

It had fallen - but this was far from a first time.  
Peter Nureyev was an experienced con-man. Breaking character had happened, time and time again. A stab in the hip was enough for one to lose their composure, a suspicious target was enough for a fake identity to be uncovered, a pretty face was enough for feelings to get in the way.  
But until tonight, Peter Nureyev had been certain this was just to be like every other time. However, Duke Rose was dead.

The mask had fallen, and it couldn't be put back on. It had cracked.

 

Duke Rose had told himself that he had no time. That sleep was useless. But Peter Nureyev knew he was scared - hell, terrified - to sleep. Because all he could hear in the quiet were the screams of Juno Steel, dying on the backseat of the RUBY7. All he saw when he closed his eyes was the blood covering his shirt, his hands, and every part of his consciousness.  
No matter how hard the man scrubbed his skin, the red wouldn’t leave. Was it seared into his eyesight, had it dyed his hands? No amount of showers could take it away.

Ever since Juno had left him in that bed, alone, Peter Nureyev had been convinced that this was how he was supposed to end - feeling miserable, alone, and without a home. He had begun growing accustomed to the idea.  
He had been hurt. But the masks helped him forget. They helped him quiet the pain. They had helped. But now they no longer were a leash, guiding him, but chains, holding him back and strangling him.

It didn’t matter what he looked like, the insides couldn’t change. Peter Nureyev would still always be there. This heart was his. It had been broken and would remain so until he fixed it, no matter the masks.  
He could have ignored the blood that escaped from his chest for all he wanted, it wouldn’t have made the bleeding stop. He needed to tend to himself. He needed to care.  
That’s what Juno Steel had done. Or what he said he did, in those notes - how he had changed, how he had needed to go. So maybe Peter Nureyev needed to do the same thing: tell Juno, change, get better.

But what if he kept hurting Juno? What if he couldn’t get better and all he ever did was bring Juno Steel back to darkness? What if he had killed Juno Steel by caring? Maybe he needed to let him go.

 

“Mistah Rose?”

The name caused Peter’s skin to crawl. Slowly, he turned around. There, on the threshold, stood Rita. She was wearing her fluffy pajamas and looked half-asleep. The sound of the shower must have woken her up.

“Rita”, he said with as much confidence as possible. But his voice stayed stuck in his throat, and the word barely escaped his mouth.

Her eyebrows were lopsided, and she looked concerned.

“Are you okay, mistah Rose? You’re looking all sweaty and wild there.”

Peter looked down at his hand. He was shaking. The sight of his own self brought on him a sense of doom, and he fell to his knees.

“Mista Rose!” Rita threw herself at his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. His whole body was trembling, and tears were streaming down his face. Peter was back, once and for all.

“Rita, Rita, Rita. I killed Juno. I killed Juno”. Peter repeated the words over and over again, the statement flooding his ears. It all came rushing back to the surface, all the years of torment that he had so carefully hidden away. It was all loose, now that the masks were broken.

“Oh mistah Rose, what are you saying? You didn’t kill mistah Steel! I’m pretty sure it was that monster Kepler something something! Why would you believe such a thing? You’re a sweetheart mistah Rose! A real treat!”

Peter laughed between the tears.

“I’m a terrible person, Rita.” He was smiling, but nothing about it had the same legendary charm to it. All the superficiality was gone. All that was left was the human.

“No! Don’t say that! Everyone is just trying their best. And yes, life is difficult and things don’t always go the way we want them to go but hey, what can we do about it, it’s not like we have, like, one of those magic wand thingies from the movies, though that’d be very handy. Gosh, why haven’t they made those already!? They would sell like Neptunian bread!”

“Rita.”

She stopped talking and looked up at Peter.

“Yes, mistah Rose?”

He smiled again.

“I think I need help”.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Travelers! As always, thank you so much for reading this fic and for your support. I truly enjoy reading your comments, they never fail to warm my heart! See you for the next chapter <3 (follow me on Tumblr @probablyjunofics for updates)
> 
> Special thanks to @DaineVin for being a constant support and for aiding in the editing of this fic! You rock!!!!


End file.
